I'm Here
by Prophe-Cass
Summary: Everything was going to turn out just fine. Eight-year-old Keith didn't know this. But twenty-three-year-old Keith did. And he wasn't afraid to tell his younger self this.


I'm Here

"Don't worry, cowboy. I'll come back."

He never did.

Three steps and Kenneth Kogane is inside.

His son, eight-year-old Keith, watched the fire hopefully. His father would come out, he always did. Last time he had only gotten a little hurt, a few burns. Never anything serious.

There he was, cradling a toddler in his hands.

"Hey, Michel!" He shouted over the roar of the flames, tossing the child to his fellow fireman before disappearing from the window, the opening too small for him.

Michal caught the child easily, nodding to Keith to come help him.

Keith didn't notice.

He was too occupied with the flames, waiting for his father to reemerge.

But he never did.

He never returned.

The policemen stilled the crowds, herding them back.

The firemen slowly turned away from the flames.

Hope was lost.

Almost.

If Keith knew one thing, it was that he was born for fire. He seemed nearly immune to flames; once he went into a burning building to help his father recover a few people, despite everyone's, including his father's, protesting. While his father came out bruised and burned, Keith was in tip-top shape, his hair only slightly singed.

So now, Keith traveled quickly, quietly, almost invisible to those looking for him. After all, he hadn't yet hit his growth spurt.

Keith ducked under a policeman's waving arms, under the tape that surrounded the perimeter of the house.

"Hey, hey kid!"

Not invisible enough.

Keith was already too close to the house, nobody dared follow him.

"Keith, come back here!" Michel yelled, voice shaking with anger.

Keith ignored him, moving even quicker.

Finally, inside the building, he searched. He looked for the stairs, let his eyes trail along the ground, hoping he'd find his father before it was too late.

And he did.

His father lay, face-down in the burning wood, a large, wooden beam crushing him.

"Dad-dad!" Keith dropped to his knees beside him, knowing he could never lift the beam off his father, nor bring him outside, by himself. And nobody else was here.

His father was dying and he could do nothing.

* * *

Twenty-three-year-old Keith, ever since he grew up and became a Paladin and reunited with his mother, he only wanted to do one thing.

Go back in time and tell his younger self that everything was going to be okay.

And Shiro just 'accidentally' let it slip over the dinner table that time travel was completely possible by harnessing the power of the Black Lion. So Keith was going to try it.

His steps led him to his lion's hanger, and the lion hummed happily, bending down as he purred.

"Hey, buddy." Keith nodded to him, smiling up at the lion. "I need you to do something for me."

The lion rumbled.

"I need to time-travel, for just ten minutes. Please?"

A rumble.

"I don't know if I'll cause any paradoxes." Keith shrugged. "I mean, I don't want to but I normally go with my gut."

Black responded with a gentle purr.

"Thanks, boy." Keith beamed, heading up the lion's maw. All he wanted to do was tell his younger self that everything would be okay. That's it.

The thing was, he went several days further back in time then he wanted. Instead of winding up at his father's funeral, Keith found himself surrounded by flames, casting everything in a bright light.

He choked for a moment on the smoke, blinking. Well, he wasn't going to complain. He could see his father again, one last time, and be there for himself when his father died.

Keith walked down the stairs, heading straight to his father's death sight. He could walk to him with his eyes closed, after all, the memory was so implanted in his mind.

* * *

Eight-year-old Keith buried his face in his father's jacket, sobbing. He couldn't believe he was just going to die here.

He heard a creak behind him, and he whipped around, rubbing at his eyes blearily. "Wh-who's there?"

"Hey, kid." A man was before him, looking down with a gentle smile on his face. A rough scar, that looked like a burn if he ever saw one, scratched into onto one cheek. His mullet was saggy, his amethyst eyes alight with sorrow, but kindness too. His face, though Keith hadn't seen it before, was somehow familiar.

"Get the beam off him, kid." The man instructed, gesturing to it.

Someone told Keith not to argue, and he pushed and pulled it, unable to do it alone. "I-I can't." Keith coughed, shaking his head.

"Alright, buddy." The man arranged himself so that he held most of the beam. "Together, alright?"

"Okay." Keith nodded, grabbing the other part. He found that the beam was already taxing his limit, grinding him down. Together, however, they managed to push it off his father.

"Alright, now. Bring your old man outside." The man ordered, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Can you help me again? I can't do it alone."

"Attaboy." The man chuckled. "Someone's learning." He put one arm under Keith's father's arm. "Ready?"

"On three." Keith responded, smiling slightly as he flung his father's other arm around his shoulders.

Together they counted down. "Three…two…one!"

And together they carried him from the wreckage. More people, if that was even possible, had gathered, and gasps of awe went around as the three males emerged, one unconscious, another unfamiliar to all, and another just a child.

Keith, with the help of the man, dragging his father to a medical officer, who placed him gently on a stretcher.

"Thank you so much, mister!" Keith gasped, throwing his arms around the man's waist. "You saved my father's life."

"You did it yourself."

"How did you survive so long in the flames? Even trained firemen can't do that, and without even being burned."

"Same goes to you. I can't tell you everything, but I will say this; we have a lot in common."

"Like what?"

"I said I can't tell you everything." The man chuckled.

When Keith glared, the man only smiled harder.

"Kid, you remind me of myself when I was younger." The man beamed. "Remember, no matter what happens in life, you aren't alone."

"Um, sir?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"What's your name?"

"My name, kid, is Keith." The man smiled, ruffling the young boy's mullet.

"Heh. That's funny." Keith glanced over at his father, being eased into an ambulance. "That's my-" he turned back to face the man again, blinking at he noticed the absence in the space before him. "-name."

* * *

Twenty-three-year-old Keith opened his eyes, smiling gently. He did exactly what he wanted to. He was finally at peace, finally accomplished what he wanted to. Finally.

Keith exited the lion, walking down the ramp, thinking back to the flames. The 'kid' had been him younger. He knew this. And he had helped him.

"Keith!" Krolia entered the room, giving him a gentle smile. "It's too late tonight to do training simulators or bonding exercises with your lion. Com'n to bed."

"Okay." Keith nodded, following her drearily.

When they passed Krolia's dorm, she stopped, walking inside.

When Keith tried to keep on walking to his own apartment, she stopped him. "Wait." She cocked an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Where're you going?"

Keith stared blankly at her. "To my dorm. Duh."

Krolia blinked at him oddly, pulling him inside. "This is your dorm, Keith."

"Um…what?"

"Did you get hurt today?" Krolia asked, pressing a hand to his forehead. "A fever? Why, you're burning up!"

"Yeah, yeah. I think it just got a little hot because of the flames."

"Ken! Keith's delirious!" Krolia cried, whipping around and planting her hands on her hips.

Wait…Ken was his father's name. Did he seriously…

His father stepped out of the bedroom, one eyebrow arched as he neared Keith.

Yep. Not that he was complaining, but it appeared Keith just made an alternative reality where his father lived.

Holy Quiznak.

Keith was pretty sure he fainted right there on the spot.

* * *

 **Author's Note; I wanted to make a FanFiction where Keith goes back in time to see his younger self and comfort him. Then, I considered paradoxes. Then his father living. Then, I was like WHAT THE HECK?! I'M DOING IT!**

 **This was done in under twelve hours. I slept for at least eight of those.**


End file.
